Maybe
by A Random Bowser
Summary: George's thoughts at Fred's graveside. For Round Five of the QLFC


Title:

Author: **A Random Bowser**

Word Count: 1011

For: The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- Wigtown Wanderers

Prompts: George Weasley

_Optional prompts: _

11. White Flag-Dido

12. "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view-until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."- To Kill A Mockingbird

13. Forgetful

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

After Fred died I wanted so deeply to give up, to lay down and die, to have my body buried beside him in the same manner that I have-had always stood beside him in the past. If it weren't for her than I might have, after all, what is the point of running away from it all if you can't have the love of your life or your best friend? Then I saw her standing there, her dark hair, limp almost blending in with the dark cloak she wore. She just stood there, staring at Fred's grave with this pained expression on her face, and her eyes, which once sparked with fire, seemed so dead. I walked over and stood beside her. Why? I don't know. It wasn't intentional, not really. I remember wishing that she would go away so that I could spend some time cursing the man that died and left such a gaping hole in my life. I know that some inner part of her felt the same way; this is something that we have discussed many, many times.

Either way, there we were standing there side by side, staring at my brother's name, or at least she was, I was doing my best to try and look at anywhere but his tombstone, when she reaches out and grabs my hand. Just like that. No words. No looks. Just reaches over and grips my clammy palm with her block of ice. And we stand there. It is all very anticlimactic, I am sure Fred must be rolling over in his grave with laughter, after all, he more than anyone else knew how I felt for the woman standing beside me. I am sure he would get some sort of sick kick out of the whole situation. What with me loving her, and her loving Fred, and Fred loving her. Except now, Fred is dead. Fred is dead, and she can't love a dead man forever, can she?

Fred is dead. That thought seems to kick start everything. I can almost hear my brother's voice in my head egging me on. "Be a Gryffindor. Hell, be a man. After all, it's not like I can put it to her anymore and you always were a bit of a sap for her. I have to warn you though, brother dearest, hut her and I will make you wish that the Death Eaters had taken your balls instead of your ears."

She jumps slightly when I pull her closer and wrap her in a hug. I guess some part of her must have forgotten that I was here. Not that I blame her, I have seemed to have grown forgetful as well these days. After all, it is so much easier to forget then remember, especially when remembering hurts so much. I hold her tightly, and after a moment she relaxes in my arms. Her hair absorbs my tears as I cry, not bothering to hide them, as her tears are soaking the front of my shirt. I doubt that we are crying for the same reason though. I am sure she cries for Fred, and me, will, I just cry for myself and for what could have been if I hadn't of gone and bolloxed everything back in fifth year.

Back then we were both, Fred and I, still young, in a way it was almost just another prank. I think that might have been what set her off. Gods, was she beautiful angry though. Fred had always had had a crush on her, I say that as though it was forever, but really it couldn't have been more than a year or two at the most, I mean, we really didn't even know the girl until she joined the team. It wasn't until the Yull incident that I got what it was that attracted Fred to her. You see, even though it was Fred who asked her to the ball as a date, I am the one who took her. Switching places was easier than polyjuice for us, after all, we are-were identical twins, all we had to do was switch robes. By the end of the night I was as much in love with her as my brother was.

Seeing her from Fred's point of view was enlightening to say the least. It was always an interesting experience trading places with him. We may look alike and act similar most of the time, but personality wise, we are-were vastly different. Fred was always the dominate one, he had to be in control, when he wasn't he tended to get twitchy. The only exception to this is when he is-was pretending to be me. You know it sucks not having him here, I have to correct myself, and every time I do I am forced to remember … I hate remembering.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah…When Fred and I would switch places the only thing we would really have to change is our outlook on things. It was something that always came in helpful when we needed a different perspective on a project, or anything really. Fred saw himself as better, and tended to look down on those he could shove around, those he saw as weak. So where I saw Angelina as pushy, temperamental, and over the top, Fred saw someone with fire, spirit, someone who was strong. After spending the night watching her from Fred's shoes I guess I saw the same thing, and an impression like that sticks.

Apparently it stuck around longer than I thought it would, because here we are five years later and I am still looking at her through my brother's eyes and loving her with my heart. Neither of us or crying anymore, though she is still leaning into me and my arms are still wrapped around her. I wonder if she is as forgetful now as I am, because if she is, there is a chance that I can convince her to forget that Fred and I aren't completely identical.


End file.
